


No Solace in my Thoughts

by lazbobthing



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Lazarus Trevelyan - Freeform, M/M, Male rogue Trevelyan - Freeform, Solas is full of feelings and he doesn't know how to deal with that, The Winter Palace, Wicked Eyes Wicked Hearts, male inquisitor - Freeform, may continue this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5111333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazbobthing/pseuds/lazbobthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas accompanies Lazarus Trevelyan to the Winter Palace, along with the Iron Bull and Dorian Pavus. Solas struggles to understand just what exactly he feels for the Inquisitor, while trying to keep said idiot from bashing Duke Gaspard's face in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Solace in my Thoughts

“Solas!” Hearing his name made the elf glance up, and he offered a smile for its owner.

“My friend, what can I do for you?” He greeted genially, as Lazarus Trevelyan wandered over, one hand fidgeting with the vest of his ensemble.  
“I was wondering if you’d be comfortable exploring the Winter Palace with me. Bull and Dorian are coming as well.” Lazarus gave him his trademark lopsided smile, his fidgeting hand rising up to brush his hair from his eyes.

“Of course. But may I ask why?” Solas gazed at him, ignoring whatever feelings the slight gesture and expression made him experience. He could not get attached, after all.

But damn it all, because Lazarus was making it very hard not to do so. 

“Someone has to keep me from just going beserk,” Lazarus shrugged, with a grin. “The others are going to be on court distraction duty, so you know Vivienne’s excited.”  
“And we both know Dorian and Bull aren’t going to keep me from going nuts. Bull would join me and then probably fuck me atop the corpses. Dorian would do the same.” He said blandly, shaking his head.

Solas determinedly squashed the image of the Inquisitor’s words down, and ignored the heat that flared up in his navel.   
Yes, Lazarus certainly didn’t help, with his blunt, open nature. The fact that he’d somehow managed to create a relationship between himself, Iron Bull, and Dorian, without it imploding, was a feat in itself, with the way the Altus and Qunari went on sometimes.

“I…see.” Solas managed evenly, blinking at the inquisitor, who smiled sheepishly.  
“Sorry. See? Josie’s already in fits about how my blunt mouth is going to cause scandals galore at the Winter Palace. It’s not like I was born a noble or anything and know how to fake it, but still!” He grumbled, crossing his arms. 

“I promise I will do my best, my friend,” The elf assured him, smiling faintly at the pout on Lazarus’ face.

The pout slid away at his words, and he was rewarded with a dazzling smile, that made his breath catch in his throat. 

Fenedhis. 

—-   
Their arrival at Halamshiral was a display of the Inquisition’s power, powerful horses drawing carriages containing the Inquisitor, his advisors, and his companions.  
The effort it must have taken to keep Lazarus from flinging himself from his carriage when they arrived, must have been mind boggling.

The Inquisitor despised traveling via carriage and had been known to outright cut free the reins of one of the horses and flee in similar circumstances.

‘At times, one just had to sit back and enjoy the many quirks of Lord Tevelyan,’ Solas thought to himself, amused at one memorable memory. 

“Solas!” He started slightly, as Lazarus seemingly popped up out of nowhere.

 He was splendant in his apparel, a far more elegant version of his normal ensemble. Joesephine had designed all their outfits, in luxurious gold, black, and deep blue. His hair was drawn back in a low resting pony tail, a nobler look that he suspected Josephine forced on the Inquisitor.  
Solas himself wore a long robe, similar to what a Dalish Keeper would wear. He suspected Lazarus had a hand in his outfit’s design, the impish rogue was just the sort to do such a thing.

“Are you ready for the inevitable clusterfuck this is going to be?” Lazarus asked in a low murmur, cheerfully sardonic.

The elf snorted, and gave him a bemused smile. “You have such faith in yourself.” He admonished gently.

“I have faith in my innate desire to kick every single noble here in the face.” Lazarus replied dryly, with an arch of an eyebrow. “If I could get away with it, I’d walk in with both middle fingers high. I left Ostwick to get AWAY from the Game, and here I am, in its capital.” He rubbed his face with one hand, grimacing.

“I thought you left Ostwick because you accidentally burned down a very important building?” Dorian sauntered over, dressed to the nines in true Tevinter style. He looked the ideal image of a Mage, handsome as could be. Solas felt a inane urge to set his foppish mustache on fire.

“That too, but mostly because of the Game.” Lazarus ran a hand over his hair, huffing as he fidgeted with his pony tail. He yelped as Josephine marched over and smacked his hand.

“For the last time, Lazarus, leave it alone!” She chided him fiercely, and he hung his head, with a meek “Yes Josie.”

“Stop being such a mother hen, Josie, it’s time for all of us to go in!” Leiliana giggled, pulling the Ambassador away from the Inquisitor. 

“It’s so charming, how she fusses over you.” Dorian cooed, taking advantage of their relative privacy to step closer to Lazarus.

“You’re just as bad as her sometimes, Dorian, so you’ve got no room to talk.” Lazarus cheerfully informed him, using one finger to poke Dorian straight in the nose, and push him back slightly. The poke made Dorian go cross eyed, and he huffed, turning up his nose.

“Oh yes, maker forbid if I try to keep you from accidentally killing yourself!” The Altus glowered at   the rogue, who rolled his eyes and grabbed him by his robes, pulling him down for a quick but dirty kiss.

“I love you. Now please go make sure Bull doesn’t wear any Orlasian nobles for horn ornaments?” Lazarus said sweetly, Dorian’s eyes dark with lust as he gazed down at the rogue.

“Ugh, fine. Don’t kill anyone without me!” With a flourish of his robes, Dorian prowled off to keep an eye on Iron Bull.

Solas glanced at Lazarus, noticing the Trevelyan had raised a hand to his lips, gently touching them with an exasperated but fond smile. 

“Would you accompany me inside?” Lazarus caught his gaze, a half grin on his cheeks. Solas gave a mock-sigh, a tiny smile on his face.

“If I must, Inquisitor.” He sniffed, taking place at Lazarus’ side, walking into the courtyard of Halamshiral.

Whispers abound rose from the masked nobles about them, as the Inquisitor walked in, accompanied by a massive Qunari, a majestic Tevinter Altus, and an elf! 

“Inquisitor!” A man approached them, and Lazarus’ expression transformed into his 'Inquisitor’ face,’ pleasant enough not to offend, stoic enough not lead anyone on.

“Duke Gaspard. The Inquisition appreciates your graceful invitation.” Lazarus replied in a murmur, inclining his head.

“It was my pleasure to accommodate such a fetching young man, Inquisitor Trevelyan. I look forward to seeing how tonight plays out. I shall beg a dance of you later, I’m sure.” Gaspard’s oily voice made Solas bite the inside of his cheek, to keep his hackles from rising.

The gall of this man, to objectify the Inquisitor to his very face! Oh, if it were his time, no one would blink an eye if he ripped the man’s throat open for insulting his mat-

Solas choked on air at that particular train of thought, where in the blazes had THAT come from? Lazarus wasn’t-

“Everything all right, Solas?” Lazarus’ voice broke him free from his panicked inner turmoil, and his eyes snapped to meet the Inquisitor’s own, blinking owlishly. To his bemusement, Lazarus’ cheeks went pink under his stare, clearing his throat and turning his gaze. 

“Having trouble with your servant, Inquisitor?” Gaspard’d haughty voice asked, a sneer visible through his mask. Lazarus’ head snapped to face Gaspard so fast, Solas would swear it blurred.

“I’ll forgive your insult this time, Duke, as I failed to introduce my FRIEND. This is Solas, the brightest and wisest mage of the Inquisition, as well as the most knowledgable expert there is on the Fade. You would do well to treat one of my inner circle with respect, Duke Gaspard.” The Inquisitor’s voice was cold as ice and as disdainful as the highest member of a court.

Solas stared dumbly at Lazarus, as Gaspard coughed and bowed his head, “Of course, my apologies, Inquisitor Trevelyan, Lord Solas.” The Grand Duke apologized, backing away and striding off.

“That was unwise, Lazarus.” Solas said, after a long moment of silence. The younger man snorted.

“Potentially, yes. But only if I wasn’t Noble born, and almost equal in power to boot. I don’t care, Solas, if Gaspard says nasty bullshit about me later, I won’t allow anyone to demean you, your knowledge, or your worth!” Lazarus exhaled a long sharp breath, rage simmering still in his fade green eyes.

Solas stared at him, eyes wide, completely and utterly dumbfounded. 

“Too much?” Lazarus asked, cringing. “Probably too much. Okay. Er. Right then.” The inquisitor awkwardly wandered off. 

Solas found himself staring stupidly after the human, blinking slowly. 

Lazarus Trevelyan continued to astound him. He would say it was not surprising, but that would be a lie.

Even upon their first conscious meeting, Lazarus caught him off guard with his irrelevant wit and absentminded charm. He could remember it like it was yesterday…

 -Doo do do doot do DO FLASHBACK SONG-

The demons seemed never ending, pouring from the rift in wave after wave.   
Solas hated to admit it, but he was tiring, and he knew his compatriot was as well, though you would never know, the way Varric kept quipping.

He cursed, seeming a spirit appear from the rift, only to blink as a hooded man appeared from a cloud of smoke out of nowhere.

Seeker Cassandra charged past him, roaring and slashing at a demon with righteous fury, as the hooded man spun with deadly grace, his daggers slicing and slashing.

At long last, the flow of demons ceased, and he grabbed the man’s hand, recognising the feel of the anchor, and lifted it towards the rift, in a fit of desperation.  
“Quickly! Before more come through!”

A stream of energy connected from the man’s hand to the rift, and he let go, watching as the energy in the air became even heavier, and the man snapped his hand back, the rift imploding shut with a small shockwave of energy, which made the man’s hood fly off.

Glowing eyes the color of the breach stared at Solas, framed in an angular face, with jaw length mahogany hair and stubble lining his jaw.

“As fantastic as it is to know I can apparently seal rifts,” The man began with a scowl, flicking his ectoplasm covered hand, “I am going to require at least twelve baths after this. Hell, I’ll just go jump in a river, because quite frankly, ew.” He flicked a bit of green goo at Cassandra, who made a disgusted noise.

“Are you seven years old?” She demanded hotly, glowering at the man. He turned to her, with an impressive poker face.

“Yes. Where is my mother." 

Cassandra looked skyward, with the expression of someone completely exhausted with his shit.

"Solas, Varric, this insufferable man is,” She glanced at the rogue, who gave an over-exaggerated bow.  "Lazarus Trevelyan. I can see my wit shall go greatly unappreciated once more!“ He sighed dramatically, hand pressed against his forehead. Solas felt his lips quirk into a smile, and noticed Varric brightening considerably.

"Pretty boy, I think you and I will get along very well!” The dwarf grinned up at the human, who returned his enthusiasm. 

Lazarus Trevelyan, with a single gesture, had changed everything. 

Solas considered the admittedly attractive rogue, watching as he flipped one of his daggers with an idle yet deadly grace in an absentminded motion. 

He noticed that neither Cassandra or Varric seemed willing to make eye contact with Lazarus, and he could not blame them. It was unsettlingly beautiful, those breach green eyes of his.

“Why won’t any of you look at me?” Lazarus demanded abruptly.

“Were your eyes the color of the breach before the explosion?” Solas asked tactfully.  Lazarus paused.

“Er, no. They were evergreen. Shit. My luck gets better by the moment.” The rogue growled, throwing his hands up and marching off.

Cassandra crossed her arms, and scowled after him.

A minute later, Lazarus returned, cheeks pink.

“Right, I don’t actually know where we’re going. Lead on.” He scratched the back of his head, with a sheepish expression.

“Ugh.” Cassandra made a disgusted sound, and strode forth, the rogue following meekly behind her.

“I like him.” Varric commented thoughtfully, falling into step with Solas as they ventured after the Seeker.

“He certainly seems to be a character.” Solas observed, with a faint smile, eyes trailing up to the breach, which caused his smile to fade away.

    -Doo do do doot do DO END OF FLASHBACK SONG-

“Solas!” Hearing his voice being called snapped the elf from his memories, and he hurried after the Inquisitor, who was at the palace gates.

The elf had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a Solas in my head.
> 
> Get him the fuck out, he is made of all these feelings and is a mopey motherfucker.
> 
> Also, for anyone interested, this is what Lazarus looks like.
> 
> http://tinyurl.com/lazarusfacee


End file.
